


My Enemy, the Sock

by thekingslover



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25928371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: “You cannot fight everything in the world for me, my love,” Joe says, muffled in Nicky’s t-shirt.He can damn well try.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 16
Kudos: 357





	My Enemy, the Sock

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr sideblog monicashipsnickyjoe. Main blog is thekingslover.

Nicky reaches out and catches Joe’s arm before he can storm out of their room.

“Joe.”

“I can’t think in here.”

Nicky lets go, but Joe doesn’t move now.

“You aren’t telling me something,” Nicky whispers, hoping a low voice will soften the accusation there. He doesn’t wish to hurt Joe. He only wants to help.

Joe runs a hand down his face. “I didn’t wish to burden you.”

Nicky takes a step toward him. He won’t touch again, not until Joe does, but he can offer closeness instead. He will do his best to share the weight on Joe even if he doesn’t know what it is.

Joe looks at him and instantly deflates, body sagging like a marionette with the strings cut. Nicky inches forward, ready to catch him if he falls, but he doesn’t. He merely closes his eyes and slumps down in a way that makes him seem smaller.

Nicky’s fingers itch for his gun. Whatever demons Joe’s facing, Nicky’s ready to kill. He need only a direction to point his barrel.

“Joe.” He knows Joe will hear it in his voice.

Joe does - he must - because he steps into Nicky and buries his face into Nicky’s shoulder.

“You cannot fight everything in the world for me, my love,” Joe says, muffled in Nicky’s t-shirt.

He can damn well try.

Nicky’s muscles are tense, but he still draws up his arms to wrap them around Joe’s waist.

Joe’s hands dangle at his sides. Though Nicky holds him, though they are pressed chest to chest, Joe does not reach back.

Nicky wonders if six grenades will be enough. Or should he go in for some heavy explosives.

“Joe,” he says again, even more dire.

Joe sighs. “Fine. I will show you.” He backs away from Nicky. Nicky, reluctantly, releases him from his arms.

Joe crosses the room toward the chest of drawers where they keep their clothes. He digs through the drawer they keep their shirts, then pulls out one of Nicky’s t-shirts. Only, it’s pink. Nicky hasn’t owned a pink shirt in a while. He just bought a pack of really nice white ones and - oh. No. No, that couldn’t be what Joe is upset over.

“I know how much you liked the new shirts,” Joe says, and holds up the offending garment. It’s splotchy pink, the shade a hint or two lighter than Joe’s red socks.

Joe looks ashamed, eyes downcast, frown deep, and Nicky is ready to throw the shirt out the window for all he cares, or light it on fire.

But that’s not what Joe needs.

So instead, Nicky steps forward. As he crosses the room, he pulls the gray t-shirt he has on over his head and drops it on the floor.

Joe’s eyes lift. That frown eases into something more agape. A pleasant reaction, certainly, but not the one Nicky is after right now. Lust can come later, after he’s made his point.

When the newly pink shirt is in reach, Nicky snatches it from Joe’s hands and puts it on.

“I look good in pink,” Nicky says.

Joe, blessedly, laughs.

Nicky spreads his arms out and Joe steps between them once more. This time, he holds him back. He plants soft kisses along Nicky’s jaw.

“I didn’t think you would be angry, but…”

Nicky understands. “You were embarrassed.”

“A proud warrior,” Joe says, “undermined by a misplaced sock.”

Nicky hums. He presses his cheek to Joe’s, enjoying the pull of Joe’s beard against his clean-shaven skin. “I could throw a grenade in the washing machine.”

Joe laughs again, and any remaining tension in Nicky’s body floats away.

“You do look good in this shirt,” Joe says in Nicky’s ear. “But I think it’d look best on the floor.”

Nicky is happy to oblige him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
